


Losing the Balance

by PrincessofProse



Series: The Witches Of Hermitville [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: "Drink Spiking", Actually contains plot for the series, Again, Again just to be sure, Ageing, Allan The Woodchucker (Hermitcraft RPF), Alternate Universe - Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Blame The Archangel Michael, Cooking, Corpses, Corruption, DON'T SHIP REAL PEOPLE, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Deal with a Devil, Death, Feast of Feasts, Fluff and Angst, Ghouls, Grian being the angel he always was, Heaven & Hell, Hell, Hellfire, Implied/Referenced Sex, Jellie (Hermitcraft RPF) - Freeform, Kissing It Better, Loss of Powers, Magic, Mentioned Cannibalism, Multi, Necromancy, Professor Beak (Hermitcraft RPF) - Freeform, Songfic, Speciesism, Spells & Incantations, Stress is a master in herbology, Strong Powers, Suggestive Themes, The witchy way!, This is actually hard to tag, Witches, Zombies, almost forgot that one, coffeehouse, don't need to have watched it, falling unconscious, mild existential crisis, minecraft personas ONLY, not really but kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29204364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessofProse/pseuds/PrincessofProse
Summary: Ever since Grian had arrived in Hermitville, things have been off and the witches' powers have gone haywire
Relationships: Charles | Grian/GoodTimesWithScar, Cubfan135/GoodTimesWithScar (Video Blogging RPF), Etho/Evil X, Implied Charles | Grian/GoodTimesWithScar/Cubfan135, Joe Hills & ZombieCleo, impulseSV & Tango Tek & Zedaph (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: The Witches Of Hermitville [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086695
Kudos: 10





	1. Dance of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually really late since I planned to upload the next part of this story early to mid January, but by the time I had an outline and realised just how much I have to research, I decided to give you some stories with a little plot in-between.   
> And obviously, in the meantime, things have changed, so Jevin is now a ghoul.
> 
> There will be an explanation at the end as to Ghouls vs Zombies!
> 
> And we're going hard. By the time I finished this little adventure, Lupercalia will be upon us.   
> And wouldn't you know it, the Sex Ritual gets it's own story, too! (I will NOT be writing the smut!)  
> I'd recommend you start listening to 'Necromancin Dancin' by 'Bear Ghost' after the horizontal line!
> 
> And now, enjoy!

He didn't know how much time had passed since the three of them had gone to sleep. It could have been about an hour, but it could as well be close to sunrise.

Impulse didn't know.

He did however know that they had laid together in bed, talking about that fallen angel Ren had brought with him from hell. They had gotten to know only a little bit about him, and that not because none of them cared. But heaven, was that guy good at avoiding questions. There were only a few things they knew for sure:

  1. His name was Grian.
  2. He was older than most of them(maybe even older than the Militems, though that would be very unlikely).
  3. His powers were by far stronger than anything any of them had ever seen(How does one just 'brighten up the stars!?')
  4. His neck and shoulders were covered in more hickeys than there were spells.
  5. He referred to the Dark Lord as 'Lucifer', to the false God as 'Lord'(A really ballsy move).
  6. Something had happened between him and False, because they were avoiding each other.



And according to Tango - who knew by far more about Grian than he let on - he had quite the sexual life. That would explain the hickeys, if only they didn't look 'decades' old.

Zed had theorised that he had been sent to fight in the second World War, but he ended up killing more people than converting. But his joy was short-lived as Tango could dismiss that theory right away. Apparently, Grian had first appeared in Hell not too long after the Great War between Heaven and Hell had been won, not quite thirty years ago.

And he had apparently walked through the gates of Hell on his own, his head held high.

Ahh, the advantages of having a demon boyfriend.

And while they kept joking about all the crazy sexual activities someone like Grian performed, Impulse's partners had drifted off to sleep.

At first, he had thought he had too many things going on in his brain, but with the passing of time, it turned out that couldn't be any further from the truth.

* * *

Impulse had laid in bed in a state of pure heademptiness. There had been not one single thought that could have distracted him from the beating of his heart, the flow of his blood, the sparks of electricity rushing through his veins alongside the red and white blood particles. They went from his heart to his fingers, from his lungs to his brain, from his nose to his knees; He was so filled with potent magic, he could swear he saw his witches' mark glow in the dark void that surrounded him.

His breathing was heavy. He hadn't noticed when or how he'd gotten there, had been too dizzy from all the impulses that had spread throughout his body like lava, turning him into a puddle of jelly. All his senses were filled to the brim with so much power; So many sensations crawling underneath his skin, trying to focus on them just made his head spin.

There was so much going on within him, everything around him had become but a dream. Tango's arms on his chest, his leg between his own were long forgotten. Zed's gentle snoring was beyond a background noise.

Impulse was trapped in his own bubble, suffocating in the energy that flowed through his veins and set every single nerve aflame.

It was too much; And it hurt. If he didn't get rid of it _somehow_ , then his demise was upon him.

He held so much might at the tips of his fingers, and yet he was but a vessel, a mortal body, imbued with power more potent than ever before known to witchkind.

He didn't know when or how he had stood up, put on a jacket or even teleported to the town's former graveyard, but the lack of knowledge didn't bother him.

Instead, he now stood on the mostly torn down mural of the graveyard, not paying any mind to the residents of the adjacent building.

He didn't even notice that being near their coven's place of worship didn't amplify his powers in the very least.

But what did that matter? He held the fate of the world in his hands; And the means to tear it down, make it one with the abyss.

He didn't have to use a spell or say an incantation. Alone raising his right hand would be enough to reach his goal.

It took less than a september night's breeze to push him over the edge and liberate the power that had formed inside of him.

The damm had broken, Impulse's thoughts had cleared just the tiniest bit - Just enough to take in the soft and loving tune of a violin coming from inside the castle. Under normal circumstances, he'd have figured it came from the opened window of Etho's room, two floors up the nearest wall, but these weren't normal circumstances.

This was about harnessing and utilising powers never before witnessed by anyone who walked the earth.

This wasn't Impulse doing what he did best - This was potential beyond his understanding taking hold of his mind and soul, corrupting him to the very core.

Turning him evil.

So when that beautiful, sublime tune hit his ear, he decided that raising the dead wasn't enough. No - they had to perform St. John's Dance!

He was their master, he gave them the strength - the life - they needed to awaken from their slumber.

Raising the dead from 6 feet under was a task only the most disciplined witches could muster. If you diminished the amount of energy used just the tiniest bit, chances were the dead lost their momentum and failed to crawl out of the earth.

And oh, was necromancy a tedious, _loooong_ process! Not even the best of witches had ever defeated Rigor Mortis.

So, maybe, if Impulse had been in his right mind, judging like a normal person, he'd have noticed the few ticks it took until hands reached out of the soft earth, desperate to grab and mawl on anything - especially the hearts of the living.

He was so engrossed in the timelapse-y rise of the dead that nothing around him actually reached his senses. He didn't notice the putrid smell, didn't see a window opening in the first floor of the adjacent castle, he didn't even notice the blue slime approaching until it was almost too late.

Only when said slime started shuddering, shifting its shape into something with eyes and teeth and claws and _some_ resemblance to limbs did Impulse's attention get pulled towards it.

DON'T. YOU. DARE!

Inundated by a wave of fury, the necromancer saw white. How could such a lowly being such as a _ghoul_ dare to feast on _his_ swarm of undead!?

By the time he had returned to his previous mindset, had set his entire concentration on the task at hand, that filthy creature had been smashed against a wall and pressed deeply into its crevices.

He should return to his task at hand, focus his entire mind on the corpses, a voice at the back of his mind screams. But the sight of his friend Cleo, the zombified half-witch, practically jumping out of her window with no regards to physical harm, is too enticing. _He_ holds _her_ under his control!

Alone the sheer amount of extra power that provides is making his mind spin.

Rickety bones and joyous groans distract Impulse, so he misses Joe calling after Cleo. But he doesn't miss the scholar trying to climb down the walls of the building to save his beloved.

"Oh, no you don't!"

The expression of pure shock on the man's face when he realises his girlfriend is turning on him, ready to rip him to pieces is priceless and Impulse wonders what other cute faces he'll make when he watches the zombie footloose march down the streets of Hermitville, picking on the clueless, pathetic civilians.

They'll pass the disease from one to another and there'll be nowhere to hide from the sensational groove of his cadavers!

And now, to commence their waltz of death and dread! Forth-

And everything turns black. The darkness engulfs Impulse, cuts off every single one of his senses - He can't see, can't hear, can't smell.

And worst of all, he can't feel his magic. That pleasant, deafening throbbing of _might_ and _potency_ is gone!

Just _gone…_

~~~

So he has no other option than to let the darkness consume every last inch of his body as he wishes he could cry for the horrendous acts he was willing to commit


	2. Basil, Sage and Yarrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you have too much power - other times, too little…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to have a writer's block, but I just had to sit down and try doing this.   
> That is, if I want to have the main story started.

October was always the first of a multitude of 'busy' months at "Monster's Brew". With the cold that started to settle in and around Hermitville, its residents, mortals and witches alike, started gathering more and more often at the only Café they had. 

And who could blame them? Stress' drinks always had that certain something to them that made you lick the cup clean and still crave some more. 

That particular day brought just the right amount of customers for Stress to handle with Grian's help.

"I'm sorry luv', but we're out of cinnabuns at the moment. But Cub should come by and deliver a fresh batch very soon!" she told the lady while passing her her lavender-infused tea. She knew the poor lady was stressed out from all the administrative work she had to do in regards to the mayoral elections happening. So Stress thought it justified to brew a few _herbs_ into her tea.   
She watched, expecting to see her hands stop shaking and her shoulders untense.

But nothing happened.   
"Weird" Grian murmured from next to her, having caught it too."Anyway, poor Rose over there has had her heart broken today by one of Impulse's bastards. Do you wanna…do something about it?" 

"Did she order somefin'?" she asked, but knew that wasn't the case. She came here with her friends about twice a week, but never brought anything. Didn't have the money, the poor thing!

"I'll make her a rose-petal Latte with an abundance of rosemary!"

So she set to work. She was only halfway through when the bell above the entrance door rang, indicating the arrival of a new customer.

It was Tango, dressed as lite as always, like he was on a quest to reveal to the entirety of Hermitville that he was born in the Nether Realms!

But the moment his and Stress' gazes met, his face turned to a frown. 

"Is it just me or is this place less magical than usual?" he asked, sitting down onto one of the bar-stools. 

"I've wondered that too, but I'm not really qualified to tell. So, what can I give you?" Grian told him with the familiarity that was so typical between the two.

The demon shrugged his shoulders "Whatever, just spike it with blood"

"But of course, Tango! Make it even more obvious you're not a mortal, but much rather a sex demon!" Father Xisuma, who just came from his meeting with Iskall inside the house, whisper-yelled at the blond from behind his back. The succubus jumped with a start, almost getting knocked off his stool. 

"Stress, I'm very sorry to tell you that Tango's right: This place 'does' in fact lack it's usual magic. Even poor Allan looks like he'll pass on any moment." He pointed to the Woodchucker in a his cage alongside Professor Beak

She dismissed the accusations with a wave of her hand, leaning in to whisper a _Watch this!_

She spoke an incantation, intending to lay a glamour upon herself.

But nothing happened.

She tried again. This time, she wanted to instantly dry the patch of linden leaves she had on a counter. She failed again. 

"I don't understand!" she said, looking down at her hands. How could she have lost her powers?

"This is most odd" Father Xisuma said, a frown visible underneath the veil he always wore to cover the lower half of his face. 

Grian sighed, clapping his hands twice.

The magic returned all at once, suffocating and overwhelming like a buzzing bee swirling around your head on a day with migraine. 

"Don't worry Stress, weird things have happened to other members of our coven, too. I'll try to fix this" The Father said, then left.

The only thing that remained of him was the encouraging smile he had given the witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm literally doing so much research for this, just today I got Milton's 'Paradise Lost'. And by now, I'm fairly ok with doing tarot card readings - even though I have the feeling that the cards are messing with me.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading, even though I'm not too proud of how this turned out. Feel free to share your thoughts with me!


	3. Play with Fire and you might just get burnt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had been looking forward to this so much, why did it have to end like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a bit, but in my defence, I actually went to school and everything(I have final exams this may, so they're my main priority. And I have an exam on in a week).
> 
> The song is the english version of 'La vie en Rose' except I don't know if there's one universal version. The one I used is the cover by Annapantsu!
> 
> I felt like I had to deliver something really good, but it was actually really hard since I didn't really know what exactly to do with this chapter. But today I sat down for a while and struggled until this came out. It's currently midnight and I slept very bad the past two nights, so the only beta reading this got was auto-correct.  
> It's not much, but it's honest work, I guess…
> 
> Nonetheless, I really hope you enjoy reading!

EX was really happy they didn't celebrate the Feast of Feasts in Hermitville. The idea on being on the chopping block of cannibalism wasn't a nice one. He even liked to think his brother had gotten rid of the toxic tradition to protect him(and totally _not_ because Hermitville didn't have 13 female witches in the first place).

Still, that's no excuse for them not to gather and rejoice over copious amounts of food most extraordinary. 

He'd been looking forward to today for a week straight, not only because he'd get to spend time with Zed and some other of the nice members of the coven, but also because he'd get to learn from some amazing chefs such as Beef and Stress.

When he had woken up this morning, however, he had the worst migraine. His head was throbbing in the most torturous of ways, threatening to explode at any moment. 

But that didn't matter, right?

What mattered were the onions he was caramelising and the beautifully pleasant atmosphere created by everyone currently in the kitchen:  
Next to him, his boyfriend was sitting on the counter, magically enhancing the harp music that came from Grian somewhere behind him. The blond and Stress were singing songs the rest didn't know, harmonising and sounding too beautiful to be true.   
Sprawled out on a bench near the entrance was Tango, occasionally singing along or leaving snarky remarks, looking like he wanted to be pinned down and fucked right then and there - which he probably did to be honest. And Beef, too focused to mingle with the others' entertainment, was stuffing cabbage with perfectly seasoned ground meat.

Everything around him felt so peaceful, he wanted nothing more than to be a part of the fun surrounding him, the smells and the sounds enveloping him, carrying him onto a different astral plane. 

_Hold me close and hold me fast_

Somewhere in the distance, he registered Etho dismount the kitchen counter and hug him from behind, leading him to gently sway to the melody. 

_This magic spell you cast - This is la vie en rose_

He tried to focus on the shallow breathing of his boyfriend, but his brain felt like it was violently yeeted from one side of his skull to the other like a pickle in a jar. 

_When you kiss me Heaven sighs_ \- "Heaven could never stand a love so sinfully perfect" someone…tango,right? said and the breathing on Xavier's neck now came in short outbursts. 

_And though I close my eyes_ that seemed like a good idea right? he closed his eyes

 _I see la vie en rose_ he didn't. all he saw were white dots dancing around his vision blurring out anything that was there previously

 _When you press me to your heart_ the thoughts in his head were speeding out of sync with the breathing on his neck and the sounds far behind him and the sizzling of the onions and _the beating of his heart_

 _I'm in a world apart_ and he _was_ somewhere else where his skin was itching from underneath and pressure built up from all sides pressing down on his head.

Pants and pained gasps were escaping him and a hand or two? had started to massage his back and whisper little encouragements in his ears and pressing down on all the wrong places and _it hurt_ like heaven and his skin was _on fire_ and his blood was boiling and he could swear his entire frame was shaking and-

He screamed. He opened his mouth and like an angry swarm of bees, the sounds escaped him and relieved him of whatever energies had engulfed him. 

There was screaming that wasn't his and a scalding coolness filled the room as the brightest blue started dancing across his vision. 

And then, that too disappeared. And his conscious along with it.  
  
~~  
  
Xisuma had heard his brother's screaming from the kitchen and immediately rushed over. The last thing he expected to find was Xavier passed out in Etho's arms and the expression of tranquil shock on everyone's faces.   
He didn't need to ask what had happened; The smell of _Soot_ and _Ash_ and _Tar_ was more than the elephant in the room. And the knowing look Grian gave him made it too obvious he had interfered before EX could do any harm.

"I don't understand. He's supposed to have his powers stripped from him"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love cooking with other people and listening to music and everything! My favourite hang-out activity and what I miss the most in this pandemic
> 
> If you wonder what's up with the weird spelling/ missing caps and commas and everything: I got inspired by a passage early in '1984' where Winston sits to write in a dairy where capitalisation and everything else gradually falls out and you can tell how messy his thoughts are/ how lost he is.
> 
> Today, I had a talk with two religious friends of mine - a Catholic and a Muslim - as to why exactly Lucifer was cast out of Heaven and in the meantime the two helped me discover things I didn't know that fit perfectly into this story and just add to the plot twist! Including actual bible verses and everything! They kinda 'gave me their blessings' and I couldn't be more thankful.  
> So if you consider leaving a comment - please do! - then maybe add a little 'Thank you!' to Ollie and Anna!
> 
> Lastly, I would like to ask you for advice: While looking at Scar's Instagram profile I noticed a guy in my year had liked some of his posts. But he had liked only those that were MC pictures so now I'm wondering if it's just the MC stuff that appeared on his explore and he liked it or if that's just coincidence and he actually watches HC/knows Scar. And now I don't know whether to ask him about it. Should I?  
> (As a side note: We're more than friendly acquaintances but less than 'friends'. We get along great and do like/have friendly banter and everything)
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed reading and I'd be grateful you left me a Kudo and a comment with your opinion!


	4. Kiss it better!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting more and more odd. Maybe someone needs to intervene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this one and I'm fairly proud of it, so I really hope you enjoy!

Scar woke up early. Today was going to be a big day! He'd been feverishly anticipating this particular Sunday to the point that Cub had to get Grian in their bed for a few nights to distract him. 

After quickly checking that Jellie was not lying on top of him, he stood up with so much vigour, his vision blurred for a split second. 

But before long, he was more than awake and rushed off to the bathroom to get ready. 

Theoretically, he didn't have anything to do today, but did you really expect him to have a lye in when the rest of Hermitville was out and about and electing their new mayor!?

He splashed more water upon his face than was necessary and then went to dry himself off, scrubbing as if he had any dry skin he needed to remove.

He never did. Not when he stopped ageing at 24 and his deal with the devil was eternal life 'and' unique beauty!  
He had looked thousands of times in the mirror, and yet, he never got fed up with his own features. Now, too, he looked at the aluminium-backed glass to-

"NonononoNoNO!!" He exclaimed at the sight before him: The man who looked back had wrinkles under his eyes and around his mouth, the skin of his cheeks had become soft and limply hanged down and there was white littering the chocolate of his hair!

But this couldn't be! He couldn't just _grow old_ all of a sudden! Unless- No, he hadn't forgotten the deadline either. It was decembre and by far not yet march!

But was it only him? He walked back into their bedroom and over to where Cub still slept. He didn't know what he _wanted_ to find, but certainly not his partner looking all yellow with wrinkles and blotches spread across his face. Deep ridges were running across his cheeks, even those underneath his beard visible enough to scare anyone who dared approach.

But this couldn't be! 

He started pacing up and down the room, murmuring absurdities again and again as if it made them true. But maybe he was just imagining things? Maybe none of them had read the contract properly before signing? 

For Heaven's sake, they might have actually known they'd eventually die but just chose to ignore it?  
But _how_ would they have forgotten something like _that_? Even across millennia, you actually _know_ whether you eventually die or not!

A groan came from the bed and he looked over to find Grian on his elbows, trying to focus in on him with bleary eyes. 

"Scar? Come back to bed, it's cold" he murmured. 

Excuse you? He was having an existential crisis over here and you expected him to get back to bed and cuddle you? 

~~But there was a point to be made about the brisk air in the room…~~

"Something terrible has happened, G!" he hoped he had managed to convey the seriousness of the situation without raising his volume.

"I can make you forget" And despite the tiredness that graced the blond's features, he looked so appetising, Scar really thought he should listen to him. 

And then, reality hit him again. 

"You don't understand! G, I'm ageing! I'm physically growing old!" he approached the edge of the bed and knelt down.

The fallen angel sat up so that the cover slipped down his body, revealing his truly perfect form. Scar's heart couldn't help but jump at the sight of all the eternal love-bites that had been on him since day one mixing with all the bruises him and Cub had left behind the last couple of nights. The idea that someone of such celestial beauty would agree to taint their body by sleeping with _them_ was still fazing him.

G's eyes became wide with realisation, but it was replaced by a loving smile so quickly, Scar thought he imagined it.

"Let me kiss it better for you" he whispered and approached the taller one, kneeling on the edge of the bed. Not that he was much taller, even like that.

He bowed down carefully and gently, as intimate as a lover, he pressed his lips to Scar's forehead, his hands softly carding through the other's short hair. His lips moved in increments and covered all of his forehead as if missing a spot would turn out to be fatal. And wherever his soft lips had come in contact with his skin, they left behind a tingle, as if an ant was crawling over his face.

Grian moved down the bridge of his nose, circling around each of his eyes before kissing the eyelids one by one. 

There was so much care in each of his movements, so _sweet_ and _tender_ and _angelic_ that Scar could feel himself turn to goo.

The trance lasted so much shorter than he wanted it to and an involuntary whimper escaped him when the other pulled away to look at his hideous, old face. 

"There we go. Much better" and he directed Scar's gaze to the mirror above the headboard of the bed. Latter one stood up…

…to look at his immaculate reflection? Was the mirror broken? Had be just hallucinated his appearance? How could this be?

But just looking at the self-fulfilled grin on the other's face told him more than words ever could. 

"Now come on, you big baby. Let me help you forget" there was so much slyness in his voice, it covered up its hypnotic properties. So it wasn't surprising at all that Scar didn't even know how he had gotten back in bed, with the blond on top of him, sucking and licking at his neck.

The brunet could still feel the phantom of all the soft kisses and the weak tingling that now spread out all over his body, eliciting a breathy moan from him.

"Shh! We wouldn't want to wake up Cub, now would we?" he nibbled at the other's earlobe, his voice so much sweeter than honey.

And as he continued his ministrations, Scar found himself boneless, pliant and content.  
  
~~  
  
The moment Grian closed the door behind him, his mask fell and a series of curses escaped him under his breath just to be picked up and carried away by the december breeze. 

When he had come to Hermitville, he had thought - he'd been _convinced_ \- that his absence from Hell would help stabilise the ever-so fragile balance. 

But what a fool Michael was! If it truly was inevitable for him to take responsibility, then he'd have a good chat with the Archangel later!

But for now, he had to talk to the coven's High Priest and somehow serve him a lie that explained why the others' powers had gone haywire ever since he appeared. 

And that without letting him know _why_ the balance was so frail in the first place!

He looked out to the castle, raised above the town and yet only at the base of the mountains that surrounded the entirety of the settlement. If he walked, then he had enough time to come up with a proper lie by the time he arrived.

And if the thought of Hell and the memories of the previous nights reminded him of a pair of green fuzzy arms around him, of panting in his ears or of sharp teeth on his neck, then no one would ever need to know…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're just so cute and soft in this one, my heart can't take it anymore.  
> Can you tell the last sentence exists only to remind me that Gridoc is endgame in this series? 
> 
> Either way, I'd be so delighted if you told me what you thought(especially since this book doesn't have any comments yet and I just really worry whether it's even good in the first place…)
> 
> Also, there's a reason that Scar looks so much younger than Cub and I'm not looking forward to writing that particular part…  
> Also also, I've mentioned Grian's never-fading hickeys twice now without an explanation, but don't worry, it will be explained in the main plotline(if I ever finish the first part of it…)  
> And if anything happens in this series that you don't like, feel free to blame the Archangel Michael. it IS his fault. And you'll get to know about that soon enough…
> 
> Now, I hope your time until we next cross paths is a pleasant one, free of problems!

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations for reaching the end! Here's your explanation:
> 
> Zombies are dead, but have somehow been brought back to life, usually without a soul.  
> Ghouls are actual living being that roam around graveyards and eat corpses/ the dead. They also shape-shift!
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed! And please do tell me what you thought! That and kudos would be beyond appreciated!


End file.
